Keg resin
by NomDuClavier
Summary: “What do you say to owning a time-share museum?” Oneshot for talk bingo; minor spoiler for 5x03


**Title: **Keg resin  
**Fandom:** HIMYM  
**Characters:** Ted Mosby, Barney Stinson, Robyn Scherbatsky, Lily Aldrin, Marshall Eriksen, the kids  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Spoilers:** Tiny spoiler for 5x03, 'Robyn 101'  
**Summary:** "What do you say to owning a time-share museum?"  
**Notes: **For talk_bingo DW and dedicated to my homie Lo Tides  
**Prompt:** Unlikely proposal

* * *

"What do you say to owning a time-share museum?"

The question in question hung there for a moment as Ted considered whether or not he had heard Barney correctly. Throughout Barney managed to keep a surprisingly serious face, enough so that Ted was beginning to believe Barney might actually mean it. Then on the other hand he didn't want to end up being punked, subject of a running gag among his friends. Not another one.

Ted Mosby put one of his many serious faces. He had catalogued and named them all, each the result of a stunningly large number of hours of practice in front of a mirror. He accompanied his answer with the one he privately called "Intrigue #5 by Mosby", as he believed it to be an expression worthy of a man's toiletries' advertisement.

"A time-share museum? Interesting… I didn't know people still did time-share anythings."

"Oh yes. It's all the rage in the current financial climate. There's even time-share pets, or so I hear."

"What an intriguing proposal. Tell me more." Ted said with practiced nonchalance.

* * *

  
"So this thing is amazing. It's got a wing with modern paintings, one with classical paintings, some sculptures… I must admit I was skeptical at first when Barney told me about it." Ted was talking animatedly about his museum. He owned a museum now, or some part of it, a reasonable fraction of the time.

"And you're sure it's legit?" Lily was skeptical about the whole idea. Time-share condominiums were one thing, but museums? That and the fact that Barney had brought it to Ted played no small part in her reluctance to take it at face value.

"Heyyyyy! I resent that remark. Of course it's legit," mentioned Barney, his pride coming under question, "I bought a stake for myself first to check it out. You're my friends, I wouldn't screw you guys over with a scam."

"Not intentionally," Robyn muttered into her whisky before downing it.

Ted continued enthusiastically, taking some drawings he made from his messenger bag. "And just think of the potential it has. If revenues are as projected or better the next five years, we could do a large atrium here. Think of it as an indoor sculpture garden."

"Which is exactly what the world needs right now, a place you can go to and pay to see garden gnomes." Robyn remarked dryly.

"Thanks a lot, Scherbatsky."

"I'm sorry. Neo-classical horticultural art."

This woke up Marshall. "Wait, your museum exhibits garden gnomes?"

"No!" Exclaimed Barney. "Of course not. That's just our intrepid reporter here spinning something awesome into what sounds like a catastrophic nosedive of guaranteed financial ruin. The only thing magical about this museum is that it's… well, awesome."

Marshall's face fell. "Oh, because I would've totally invested in that. I love garden gnomes. My brothers and I used to have contests to see who could paint them the prettiest, inbetween roughhousing, that is."

Barney raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"No, of course not! Art is for sissies." Marshall clapped his hand across his mouth, realizing his mistake.

"Art is for sissies?" Lily wanted to know. "Really? If you ever want to get laid again, Marshall Eriksen, I suggest you take an immediate and profound interest in the arts."

"Well, as it so happens…" Barney and Ted both jumped on the opportunity to sell Marshall and Lily on the museum idea.  


* * *

  
"And that kids, is how we came to own what is now our family vacation home on Martha's Vineyard." Ted tells his kids. "The museum didn't pan out. Your uncles Barney and Marshall and aunts Robyn and Lily, they together with your mother and I bought out the remaining owners. The rest as they say is history."

Asks the daughter. "Wait a minute, Dad. What was it about the museum that didn't pan out?"

"Ohhh… turns out that it's a lot harder to build a profitable museum than it appeared at first glance. There's tons of paperwork that's impossible to get done for remodeling vintage buildings, insurance on artwork is tantamount to extortion, and the list goes on.

"You know when your uncle Barney approached me with 'What do you say to owning a time-share museum?', I really thought he was setting me up for a joke and I was waiting to become a punch line. This guy at his work found us what had all the hallmarks of a scam, if not for the place actually existing and being for sale. His and in turn your uncle Barney's enthusiasm just sucked us right in. Still, in the end things turned out rather well, if unexpected, with a lovely place we call our own filled with lots of good memories."

"I'll drink to that," replies the son, amending after a look from Ted, "when I'm old and wise."

"And now we know how we ended up with an empty keg named Mabel in the wine cellar," muses the daughter, "or for that matter came to have a wine cellar. How exactly did uncle Marshall come to own that keg again?"

"That," said Ted, "and the story of how your aunt Lily overcame her keg resin allergy, is an epic in its own right."


End file.
